


The Rise and Fall of Miss Fantastic and the Invisible Man

by juniper (junipermouse)



Category: Misfits
Genre: ASBO Five, Angst, Character of Color, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-06
Updated: 2011-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipermouse/pseuds/juniper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alisha tells Simon that he's going to be a better man. Simon doesn't tell Alisha that he's getting sick of watching her wait for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rise and Fall of Miss Fantastic and the Invisible Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



> Thank you, Alyse, for your lovely generosity for Yuletide! I hope this is a decent enough gift in return.
> 
> (Thanks also to my speedy, speedy beta rivereyes!)

The reason Simon decides to go out with Alisha—

—other than her being completely beautiful and, in her world of real friends and parties and dating nearly-Olympic athletes, staggeringly out of his league—

—is because it feels as though she understands the real him. Not the clumsy loner who feels so ignored by the world that he sometimes _literally turns invisible_ , and not the nervous idiot who killed his girlfriend and then ate dinners with her frozen corpse because he didn't really know what else to do about it. The him inside all those other people, trying to come out. Someone... confident, and daring, and who has the right ideas. Maybe even someone who could lead them all to a better future.

He sees all that when he looks into Alisha's eyes, and when he's with her, he feels... no, he _knows_ he can really be that man.

It isn't until later that he realizes there's a big gap between _can be_ and _is_.

–

The others mostly react the way he expected they would. Curtis doesn't say much of anything, but he looks pretty stunned, and he and Alisha have a whole silent conversation with their eyes that almost makes Simon disappear even while everyone's looking at him.

Kelly looks shocked, too. But thankfully, after a moment she just nods and says, “Awright, good for you, then.” Simon's pretty sure she scanned their thoughts, but she seems satisfied with what she heard.

And Nathan is... Nathan. After being assured for the twentieth time that 'Barry' isn't lying, after everyone else has already given up and walked away, he jeers, “What do you even do with her, man? Do you do it like her and Curtis, just stare at each other and wank yourselves off?” He entertains himself for some time by trying to come up with the perfect imitation of Simon masturbating. Eventually, maybe seeing the look on Simon's face, he relents. “Oh, come on, it's a good thing! If she's seen your O-face and she still wants to look at you, it means she thinks you're a keeper.”

Simon has come to understand that this is Nathan _really trying_ , so he takes advantage of the moment to let off some of his nerves. He tries to explain. That they don't, that they haven't— That they're taking things slowly. It was meant to take the pressure off, but it's sort of doing the opposite now, because the longer they wait, the more Simon worries that she'll get bored before he has a chance to do anything. Not just in bed, but anything. Before he has a chance to become a real man. He tries to explain all of this.

Nathan is Nathan. “What're you waiting for? Get on that! I mean, sure, you can't have real sex, but it's sort of like having really good pornography. And I make it a point never to wait for porno.” Something occurs to him, and he reaches under his makeshift bed. “On that note, excuse me, please.”

As Simon leaves, Nathan adds: “And don't piss on her tits unless she wants you to!”

Alisha is Simon's best friend now, but it sometimes worries him that Nathan is in second place.

–

Despite the sage advice, they do take things slow. They get drinks and dinners, and even go dancing once, although Alisha spends so much time trying not to laugh, trying to help him, that they decide to hold off until Simon becomes a little more coordinated. That isn't exactly his favorite date.

His favorite is when it first starts to get cold enough to wear gloves, which means they can hold hands all the way home. He even sort of kisses her goodnight when she pulls up her scarf to cover her mouth for him. She makes a face afterwards. “That tastes awful. And I've got a thread in my mouth,” she says, but she's giggling as she says it, eyes shining a little.

That's the most surprising part for Simon. He'd been worried about her getting bored, but she seems to be enjoying it, too. She's quieter, lately, but not in a bad way. She talks less, but smiles more.

When they start sleeping together — really sleeping, that is — she stretches out in bed next to him and flashes him one of those quiet smiles. “I literally can't remember when the last time I had an actual conversation with a man was,” she sighs. “Before this, I mean. Is that horrible?”

Simon reaches under the sheet so he can hold her hand through the fibres and asks her if she's seen any good movies lately.

–

This is how it is for the first month, and it's amazing in a way Simon never even imagined he would know. Alisha makes him feel so special that for a while he actually _can't_ turn invisible when she's around, and he has to start practicing again, like he did in the beginning, to make sure he's not caught in a situation where he can't protect her or the others.

That's how good things are.

Then, all at once, everything starts to get worse. Not _bad_ , exactly. Just... not as good.

Alisha starts talking more again and stops smiling as much, and now she starts to joke about touching Simon just to get it over with. He doesn't understand what's going on, until Kelly stomps up to him one day, makes sure they're alone, and snaps, “Wouldja just shag her already?? Because I'm getting really sick of hearing about it!”

Eventually, Simon gets it: it was fine at first, when they could pretend they weren't having sex because of him, because he's shy and inexperienced and bad at girls; when they could pretend they were just waiting for the real thing. The longer it goes on, as he gets fitter and braver and they get more comfortable with each other, the more she remembers the real reason they aren't touching.

When he comes up to her room that night, he fumbles with his coat, bites his lip, and wonders if she might want to—

“God, yes,” she interrupts him.

And she's eager enough and nice enough that she doesn't even mention it when he comes ages before she does.

–

Luckily, things are quiet for the group for a while, except for the frantic hunt for employment and housing. Nathan still has neither, but Kelly, Curtis, and Nikki are fine, and after Simon and Alisha move into _his_ old place, so are they.

Mostly. Simon tries to think of it as the Fortress of Solitude, or the Batcave, or the Danger Room, or some other such thing that would make him feel at home here. But try as he might, he just keeps thinking of it as _his_ place.

Simon thinks that until it starts feeling like it really belongs to him, then he won't be _him_. But as time goes by, he begins to wonder if either of those things will ever really happen.

–

He's not the only one who seems frustrated by his lack of progress. He's working and working at it, weight training, balance, aim, reflexes—and, of course, the bloody parkour—and it's enough that Nathan sees him with his shirt off after a run and asks, “Who the fuck are you and what have you done with our Barry?”

But every time he comes home with a cut or a bruise, Alisha sees it, and he sees her seeing it. She sees every fall, every miss, every mistake.

She doesn't say a word, not ever, but it's enough to know she sees it, because he knows they're both thinking the same thing: _he_ never fell.

–

Except when he wanted to, of course, which is something they're very careful to never talk about. Alisha told Simon what happened, and intellectually, he realizes that means he's going to die, but he can't let himself think about it.

Besides, he can still change the future. Curtis does it all the time, and Simon himself, his future self, found a way — or will find a way — once, didn't he? Possibly loads of times, even. He had to have gone back more than once to work out all those critical moments.

Simon has seen Back to the Future and The Consequences of Time Travel and even Primer. He's read Bishop, Cable, the X-Men, and half of the DC Universe, including even Booster Gold. He knows there are ways it can be done.

He knows there's a future, a world somewhere where everything still happens, but he gets to be happy with Alisha.

When things keep getting worse, he can't help but wonder if it's actually this one.

–

Sometimes Simon just sits down and tries to figure out what the hell he—the other he—was thinking. He's seen and read all the same things, probably even more. How could he not know better than to go back in time and _tell Alisha she will fall in love with him_? He had to know what that would do, didn't he?

Or... he will have to know, won't he? The language sometimes confuses even Simon.

The point is, there are two possibilities: either it was a really stupid mistake, maybe out of love; or he did it on purpose. Which leads Simon to wonder — not that he hadn't been already — if Alisha is only with him because _he_ told her that she would be. Or if she's only with him because she was in love with _him_ , which he's actually pretty sure is the case.

One thing is for sure: the longer he's with her, the more it becomes obvious that she's waiting for something. “I'm waiting for us to have enough money to go to Vegas,” she reassures him, reaching over to trace the line of his arm, hand hovering just above his skin.

Las Vegas. Right.

–

This is still the best time of his life, but he's never worked harder. He comes home with more bruises and scrapes, a black eye, a fat lip, even a sprained wrist once. Nathan catches him putting ice on his injuries and cracks, “Don't tell me she's a wifebeater! Or are you two finding creative ways to get kinky? If so, don't neglect the gory details.”

Simon has no idea how to explain any of this, so he just shakes his head and shakes Nathan's arm off his shoulder. This actually seems to upset Nathan a little.

“She's not really, is she? You can tell me, Barry. I'm not afraid to hit a woman under the right circumstances, even a hot one!”

Of course Alisha isn't hitting him. It's just that that might be easier to talk about. Simon manages to distract Nathan for the time being with talk of other girls.

“Oh, yeah, listen! There was this girl at the club, right? Totally bangin'! Looked a little like a pretty Kelly. Anyway—”

Simon doesn't know what he _would_ say, if he could, and if Nathan would listen. He tries the words in his head: _I'm jealous of myself. Alisha doesn't love me as much as she loves... me._

It's ridiculous, so he lets it go, and listens to Nathan's latest horrible story with a polite grimace.

–

They have a fight. It's not about _him_ , or at least they don't think it is. Later, his normally excellent memory fails him and he realizes he can't really remember what it was about, which he realizes even later means that it wasn't actually about whatever it was about.

What he will remember is getting angry at Alisha. He hates getting angry at all, but especially with her, and he tries not to be, but then, suddenly, he is.

And what he'll remember is that they argue in circles until they're both exhausted, and it seems like there's no way around any of it. Then, Alisha sighs and crawls into bed, patting his empty space next to her. “Come to bed,” she murmurs. “Don't worry about it. Everything will be better tomorrow.”

At the time, in his head, this has nothing to do with any of that, but he will still remember thinking that that's exactly the problem.

–

But things actually are better, for a little while, enough that Simon can remind himself that they were never all that bad to begin with. After all, six months ago, he was a friendless virgin who got checked into a mental unit for trying to set a house on fire. Three months ago, he killed a woman with a glass door. A couple of issues with his girlfriend — a real girlfriend! — are a small price to pay.

Curtis and Nikki are bartenders, so they spend an increasing amount of time at the pub, and Simon feels like an everyday part of things for the first time in his life. They all go from work — even Nathan, who's just started a job as a Santa Claus — to the pub, and they sit and talk about their lives, and these days rarely mention the multiple homicides or the criminal histories. They have other lives now, and Simon still gets to be a part of them.

“Sometimes I wish I had your power, right,” Kelly sighs at him, snapping her gum. “Because sometimes I just want to go invisible around these ratty little shitheads that come up and harrass me all fucking day at work, yeah?”

“And do what, sneak up behind them and crack them on the head with your broom?” Nathan cackles.

“ _No_ ,” Kelly snaps, then reconsiders. “Maybe.”

“I don't think I'd want to be invisible,” Nikki muses.

“Me neither,” Curtis agrees.

“I want _your_ power,” she says to him. “I spilled a drink yesterday and lost half the bar in tips. I'd have loved to rewind time then.”

“Yeah, but that's not really—”

“—how it works,” Alisha and Nikki chime in together, then blink at each other and laugh.

Nathan smirks at Curtis. “Man, you're boring.”

Curtis huffs and goes off to get another round. “Shut it.”

“Poor baby.” Nikki turns to the others. “But if you could switch powers with anyone, whose would you take?”

All eyes go to Alisha, either because they know no one will pick hers or because they're expecting her to talk first. Maybe they all assume she thinks about it the most. She smiles tightly. “I suppose that immortality thing would be all right. Or yours,” she says to Nikki, relaxing, starting to laugh, “if I could keep from teleporting every time I—”

“All right,” Nikki interrupts loudly. “Anyway. What about you, Simon?”

“Who the hell is Simon?” asks Nathan.

The conversation moves on, but Alisha looks thoughtful for a while. Simon puts his arm around the back of her seat, his fingertips brushing her clothed shoulder, and smiles at the friends he finally has.

–

It's a few days before Christmas when Alisha comes home with that same thoughtful look on her face, and Simon knows instantly that something is different.

“Simon,” she says hesitantly. “Do you think we'd be together if I didn't have any powers?”

He's working on a video before she gets in, but the strangeness of the question makes him look up. He supposes that if she had no powers, she wouldn't be a part of their group, and then they wouldn't have gotten to know each other—

—and, a treacherous voice in his head mutters, she would never have gotten to know _him_ —

—but otherwise, he can't see what her powers have to do with them, and he says so.

“Well...” She sits down. “I guess what I mean is, would you feel any different about me if I didn't have any?”

He doesn't say that it would be nice to touch her. He's learned enough to know that's a mistake. He says what he believes, which is that they have their powers for a reason; and what he thinks is the right thing to say, which is that he loves her no matter what.

“Hmm,” she says, but when he acts worried, she brushes it off. “No, no. It's nothing. Do you want to eat?”

But something is different, and something is about to change. He doesn't know how he knows it, but he does. It's in her eyes all through dinner, in the way she doesn't really pay attention to the conversation. It's even in the way she carefully kisses his shoulder as they get into bed.

Something is about to happen.

“Don't be silly.” She yawns and rolls over, closing her eyes. “Everything's fine.”

But she lies awake a long time after she pretends to fall asleep — he can feel it — and so does he. Things have been quiet for so long, but now something is coming for them. A change around the corner, waiting for them. The worry twists and curls in his gut until it starts to hurt, adrenaline twitching through his veins.

He's so restless that Alisha finally gives up on pretending. “Simon,” she says firmly. “Go to sleep. Everything is fine.”

He closes his eyes obediently and takes a deep breath. _Go to sleep_ , he tells himself. _Everything is fine._

His mind chants back at him: _Everything is fine. Everything will be better tomorrow._

The thought comes back unbidden, but he rolls over, shuts his eyes tighter, and wills it to be true. Not all change is bad. The group is a change. Alisha is a change. Maybe whatever's coming will be good.

He whispers it in his head like a mantra. _Everything will be better tomorrow._

 _Everything will be better tomorrow._

 _Everything will be better tomorrow._

–

It isn't.


End file.
